


Like Home

by Blink_Blue



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: Five times Dennis and Mac fall asleep together, and one time they don't.





	Like Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookedbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedbow/gifts).



**1.**

There’s really no good way to explain why Dennis enjoys hanging out with the local drug dealer, Ronnie the Rat, as he’s known around the neighborhood. The guy is not cool at all. He’s got a father in prison and his mother is a chain smoking welfare dependent who couldn’t give two shits about her kid. But for some reason, Dennis likes Ronnie. They hang out under the bleachers and get high behind the dumpsters. They always have a good time together.

And if Dennis has to put up with the laughing stock of the school, Ronnie’s so called best friend, _Dirt Grub_ … well, it’s worth it.

The best excuse he has is that Ronnie provides good weed. Though really it’s the only weed available in their neighborhood, ever since Ronnie sold out the previous drug dealers, earning his nickname.

Dennis laughs when Ronnie tells him the story of how he did it. He doesn’t mock him like the rest of the cool crowd at their school. Because the truth is, Ronnie’s stories make him laugh.

And when they get stoned together in the basement of Ronnie’s house, giggling and laughing, falling into each other on the old couch as they stuff their faces with junk food and Mountain Dew, and Ronnie lets slip that he really wishes his father would come home from prison, Dennis doesn’t make fun of him. He tells him that some fathers really aren’t cut out to be dads. And maybe having no father is better than having a shitty one.

It’s a rare, serious moment that they share. But then Ronnie pulls out a few cans of warm Miller Lite he swiped from his mother, and they move on.

On more than one occasion, they pass out on the raggedy couch in Ronnie’s stuffy basement. And when Dennis wakes up the next morning, he lifts his head from Ronnie’s shoulder, and looks around the dim basement with bleary eyes.

“Aw, what the fuck, we slept here again?” Dennis gives Ronnie a smack on the arm. “Wake up, dude.”

“What’s going on?” Ronnie mumbles, looking around confused.

“My neck is killing me,” Dennis stands to his feet, wincing as the room tilts and spins. “I gotta get out of here, man.”

“You’re leaving already?”

Dennis snorts and pulls a face. “Yeah, I’m goin’ home. To my full size bed, with sheets and pillows. I gotta sleep off this hangover, man.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ronnie stands awkwardly, looking like he wants to walk Dennis to the door. “You want to come over later? We can hit the arcade? Or maybe we can convince Charlie to steal some booze from his mom?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dennis forces a smile and heads for the stairs, rolling his neck in an attempt to relieve the soreness. “Whatever. Later, dude.”

~~~

**2.**

As great of a friend as Mac is–he’s real handy in a jam, the guy can be pretty dense sometimes. And Dennis is never shy about pointing it out.

“Why do you get the bigger bedroom?” Mac looks at him perplexed.

“Well, let’s see.” Dennis starts obnoxiously ticking off points on his fingers. “I did the work and found the apartment. I paid the security deposit because you have no money. I pay more rent than you, because again, _you have no money._ And lastly, I get the bigger room because I have more stuff than you.” Dennis raises his arms, gesturing to the new furniture he’s had delivered, and the various moving boxes and suitcases that are scattered about the room.

Mac, on the other hand, showed up with a backpack and a trash bag full of clothes. He blinks and sighs, looking around Dennis’ room a bit defeated. “Yeah, okay,” he finally says. “So can I sleep in here tonight?”

Dennis snaps his head up in shock. “What? Why?”

Mac shrugs, eyeing Dennis’ new bed in envy. “Well, we still need to pick up my mattress… And it’s getting pretty late. I figured we’re not gonna get to it until tomorrow, so…”

“Then you can sleep on the couch tonight!” Dennis refers to the brand new couch he bought for them sitting out in the living room.

“Come on, man. It’s just one night!” Mac insists.

“No offense, Mac. But you are not my first choice of bed partner for breaking in my new mattress.”

Mac rolls his eyes. “It’s just _sleeping._ What’s the big deal? What are you planning on going out and picking up a chick tonight?”

“Well, no.” Dennis reluctantly concedes. He’s completely exhausted after the hours it took to move all his stuff into the new place. And he’s only halfway unpacked. He honestly wouldn’t mind passing out and calling it a night. “Alright,” Dennis sighs. “You can sleep here tonight. But don’t expect to make a habit out of it. We’re picking up your bed first thing tomorrow.”

Mac’s face lights up and Dennis has to force himself not to think about why his chest gets tight and it’s suddenly a little harder to breathe.

So they spend their first night as roommates sleeping in Dennis’ new bed together. And when Dennis wakes up the night morning, with Mac’s bony limbs wrapped around him, and his knee digging into the back of his thigh, he tells himself it’s the first time and the only time.

It’s definitely the last time.

_~~~_

**3.**

But it wasn’t the last time.

Over the years that slowly spread into decades, Dennis and Mac end up sharing a bed again and again. It starts out innocuous at first. They drink too much and end up passing out together, very reminiscent of their high school days. Or they fall asleep after watching Predator for the hundredth time.

Dennis stops complaining about it after a while, no longer feeling like putting in the effort to act like it bothers him. Mac doesn’t make a big deal of it either.

And it’s not like it happens _every_ night.

Just every once in awhile. Sometimes it’s after Dennis kicks out his latest sexual conquest. Sometimes it’s because Mac won’t stop complaining that the heat in his room doesn’t work because the rusty old vents are blocked. Sometimes it’s for a completely ridiculous reason like Charlie pissing in Dennis’ bed after drinking an entire case of beer.

But either way, Dennis always sleeps better with Mac laying next to him.

“I’m not sleeping on the goddamn couch.”

“I didn’t expect you to, bro.” Mac says as he heads into his room, Dennis following closely behind him. “You don’t get to complain about my bed though.” Mac points a finger in Dennis’ face.

Dennis rolls his eyes, already dreading Mac’s lumpy, old mattress. “I can’t believe Charlie fucking pissed in my bed,” he grumbles. “He’s buying me a new goddamn mattress.”

“I told him it was gonna happen. The kid doesn’t listen.” Mac pulls back the covers–which are really just some old sheets–and climbs underneath. Dennis crawls in next to him from the other side.

“These sheets are so fucking thin, Mac!” Dennis hisses as he rubs the threadbare covers between his fingers. Even with an extra blanket layered on top it doesn’t come close to the down comforter he usually sleeps with.

“What did I say about you complaining?!”

Dennis scoffs and rolls over trying to get comfortable. “I don’t know how you fucking sleep on this thing,” he mumbles before flipping over onto his other side. It’s no less unpleasant.

A moment passes with nothing but the sounds of their soft breaths before Mac speaks again. “You cold, dude?” He whispers in the dark.

“I’m not _not_ cold,” Dennis eventually mumbles.

Neither of them say a word as Mac inches over in the bed. He turns onto his side so he’s facing Dennis and slowly wraps an arm around his waist. Dennis remains quiet. But after a hesitant moment he scoots closer into Mac’s warm embrace.  

Dennis closes his eyes and slowly drifts off, falling asleep to the familiar scent of Mac’s cheap shampoo.

_~~~_

**4.**

Something that doesn’t change over the years is the strange, calming effect Dennis and Mac seem to have over each other. A gentle touch on Mac’s shoulder or a soft caress to the face is enough to end most fits of rage in the other man.

And somehow even in situations where Dennis _should_ be pissed or freaking out in a wild panic, he’ll look over and see Mac by his side, and suddenly the situation just doesn’t seem all that bad.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t kicked me out of the fucking apartment,” Mac’s slurring from the massive amounts of alcohol as he spreads out the sleeping bag on his hands and knees, clumsily making his poor excuse for a bed on the floor of the office. “And now she’s taken over my room?! Your _wife–_ ” Mac spits the word like it comes with a dirty taste in his mouth. “Filled my room with a bunch of… weird cat stuff.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad!” Dennis takes a long, patient breath as he continues to sip on his whiskey. “I’ll get a divorce. Maureen will be gone and we’ll be back at our place in no time!”

Mac looks up with an exasperated expression on his face. “Are you kidding me, dude? I feel like you don’t grasp the gravity of the situation. You don’t even have a goddamn lawyer! You are screwed!”

“It’s okay, Mac.” Dennis slurs as he drops to his knees on top of their ‘bed’ for the night. “It’s all gonna be fine! Don’t worry about it. Drink the whiskey,” Dennis waves his glass in the other man’s face. “I’m… I’m gonna pass out now,” he mumbles as Mac takes the glass from him.

Mac blinks heavily and finishes the drink as Dennis climbs underneath the thin blanket they’re using as covers. The room spins as Mac blearily watches Dennis snore on top of the one pillow they’re sharing for the night.

He’s got to get Dennis out of this sham of a marriage.  

Tomorrow morning, he’s definitely going to regret the drunk dial and the barely coherent voicemail he leaves _The Lawyer_.

But Mac’s doing it for Dennis.

And when Mac finally climbs under the covers, he pulls Dennis closer to him, receiving nothing more than a drunken mumble out of the other man. They both reek of whiskey. Mac doesn’t think about how close their faces are. He doesn’t think about the way their legs are entangled under the thin blanket covering them. And he definitely doesn’t think about how pissed he is that Dennis kicked him out of their apartment.

Mac wakes up the next morning with Dennis snoring gently on his chest, apparently preferring it to the single pillow they have. A spot of drool soaks his shirt.

He’s completely forgotten about the voicemail he left the previous night.

_~~~_

**5.**

After Dennis and Mac lose their apartment, home becomes more of a feeling than a place. Home isn’t Dee’s apartment anymore than it is the small corner of Dee’s living room separated off by a curtain hung from the ceiling. Home isn’t the pathetic air mattress Mac sleeps on, usually with a hefty pile of dirty laundry on top of it. Nor is it the flimsy, precarious hammock that Dennis hangs up, despite the fact that he would fall out of it most nights, landing painfully on top of the sleeping man beneath him.

Home becomes each other.

And after a while, Dennis gives in and spends most nights with Mac curled around him, sharing the air mattress. It’s tight, cramped, and uncomfortable, and yet somehow, sleeping tangled in each other’s limbs, Mac’s arm locked tight around Dennis’ waist and his face buried in Dennis’ unruly hair, is so agreeable that neither of them make an effort to find a place of their own for well over a year.

Even with Dee’s constant objections and never ending complaints, her recurrent demands that they get the hell out of her apartment fall on deaf ears.

Dennis would simply berate his sister in return, insisting that they have an extensive list of demands that _must_ be met. Never mind the fact that being stuffed in the small corner of Dee’s living room isn’t generating enough of an inconvenience to demand immediate change.  

Somewhere down the line, things start to change. There was always an invisible boundary–an unspoken line they would never cross. And slowly, over time that line gets blurred. Their touches linger a bit longer. Mac’s gazes seem to hold something else behind those warm eyes. And after awhile, Dennis thinks maybe he’s fallen hard for his best friend.

Dennis and Mac have lived together for two decades, but they’ve never been _together._

And then it gets either too hard or too real. Or both.

Maybe that’s why their stint in the suburbs turns out to be such a miserable failure. They sleep in separate beds for the first time in a long time. Yet still, Dennis tries to make a housewife out of Mac, just to prove how miserable their lives would be together. It’s a self fulfilling prophecy to the very end.

“Can you believe how awful this month was?” Mac chuckles as he drops his bag onto Dee’s floor. “It’s good to be back in the city.”

Dennis doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, with a forced smile on his face. “It was pretty bad, dude.”

Mac’s grin drops a bit. “At least… at least things can go back to normal now?”

Dennis nods, but he thinks maybe Mac knows him well enough to see right through him. He could never let things go back to normal.

In the end, Dennis makes Dee sleep between them in the bed.

~~~

**+1.**

A month after Dennis moves out to North Dakota to raise his son, his life has become a hectic, ever changing, non-stop distraction. It’s tough adjusting to a new place that’s not Philly. He misses the familiarity of the city he’s lived in his whole life. He misses the noise, the action, even the _smell_. And he misses the people too.

But Dennis tries not to think about the gang. He still keeps in touch with Dee every once in awhile. Afterall, he is raising her nephew.

But he’s _definitely_ not thinking about Mac.

How could he? He simply doesn’t have the time. He soon discovers that raising a toddler is a twenty four-seven job. One that’s harder than any psych class he ever took at UPenn, requires more effort than any work at Paddy’s, and is more complicated than any scheme the gang tried to pull off over the years.

That doesn’t stop him from being thankful for the opportunity to be in his child’s life. He’s spent his whole life chasing a sense of fulfillment that he’s never quite achieved. And at the end of each hard day, when Dennis cherishes the moments he’s spent with his son, he thinks maybe he’s one step closer to being what he wants to be. Someone who’s needed. Someone with a sense of purpose.

It’s almost enough.

Except that when he lays in bed at night, staring at the cracked ceiling, unable to sleep despite the exhaustion seeping deep into his bones… he’s mocked by the empty space next to him. There are moments when he thinks he’s losing his mind again, before he’s grounded by thoughts of Brian Jr sleeping safe and sound in the next room.

But this isn’t like the last time he tried to make it work in the suburbs. Mandy isn’t Mac, and Dennis isn’t trying to make her into a housewife. He’s not even pursuing a relationship with her–it’s just not what either of them wants.

It’s not like the last time. Yet this house doesn’t feel anymore like a home. And the insomnia is back to stay.

And it doesn’t seem to matter the thickness of his comforter, the quality of his mattress, or the cost of his luxury sheet sets. There’s an empty space beside him that keeps him awake even on the best of nights.

Dennis doesn’t think about who should be there, filling the empty space in his bed. He ignores the pang in his chest that surely represents a metaphorical emptiness in his life. And he pushes the unanswered texts and missed calls out of his mind.

He doesn’t want to linger on the past, on what he left behind, or what could have been.  

But this house doesn’t feel like a home. The insomnia keeps him awake for hours upon hours, every single night. Yet still, he tells himself that he’s _definitely_ not thinking about Mac.


End file.
